


The Stars Will Light the Path

by Starlithorizon



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Desert, Gen, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, angstygoround, coming home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2206767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlithorizon/pseuds/Starlithorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos has been in that other desert for the longest time, and all he wants is to return to Night Vale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stars Will Light the Path

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EverlivingGhosts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlivingGhosts/gifts).



> I started the angstygoround off with something kind of sad, but just you wait. Ooooh, just you wait.

The desert was vast and broad and endlessly dark. Sometimes, it was bone-bleachingly hot and his skin felt tight and fragile over his tired muscles. Sometimes, it was an arctic sort of cold, driving deep into his joints and coiling there to make his journey ache. Always, his feet sludged through soft, silty sand as he sought home.

Dana had left long ago and become something grand. The masked army had retreated, though they sometimes returned to him and sat with him and told him stories. Usually, that helped him to feel a little brighter, but it was momentary at best. Once they left him, he usually sagged in front if the fire and fought back tears.

Usually, they won.

Every night, he dialed Cecil's number and waited as it rang and rang and rang. When Cecil finally answered, he ached and longed to break down over the line, but he kept his heart in one piece for this man who was so good for him.

"We miss you back here," Cecil always sighed. Carlos would echo those same sighs.

"I know," he always said. "I miss you too. I miss Night Vale. I miss the smell of the rosemary in front of the lab. I miss the weird hum the ceiling makes on Monday mornings. I miss that sweet coffee you always get. I miss _you_ , Cecil."

In truth, Carlos missed more than he could ever hope to list. Cecil and his warmth and touches and kisses always topped the list. He could see Cecil's smile easily, could hear his voice with no trouble at all, but being held by that strange and ephemeral man would have to wait.

Carlos usually tried to distract Cecil with stupid observations and long explanations about science; he could always hear the fragile sadness in his boyfriend's voice. He tried so hard to make Cecil forget the distance, and to mask just how hard it was for him to find a single damn door.

Though he never had to sleep, he was always exhausted and curled up in the sand each night with his lab coat pillowed under his head. He always, always, _always_ dreamt of home.

He traveled for forever, footsteps stretching across this desert in an endless chain. For centuries he searched, and still there was no door. Just Carlos, the occasional masked warriors, and so much sand.

Every day was always the same, and the slightest difference resonated and sank into Carlos. When he found it, Carlos was torn between falling to his knees in gasping relief and whooping in joy. It was precisely what he had been searching for, sitting patiently atop a dune like it was waiting for him.

His breath stuttered.

His hands shook.

His heart thundered.

He surged forward and up, sinking in the soft sand past his ankles, but he'd never been so determined in his life. There it was, a single oak door. _The_ oak door. There it was, his way _home_.

The going was so slow, time and space spreading thick around him and sinking in his lungs, sticking him in place like molasses. It felt like running in a nightmare, desperation ringing around the desert. He gasped and choked and fought, and though it took forever, Carlos finally made it atop the dune. He laughed sharply, victorious, and grabbed the knob. The brass was hot in his hand, warmed by the sun. He turned it and held his breath. Slowly, he opened it, half expecting Cecil on the other side, or maybe his friends.

Finally, when he grew too impatient, he flung the door open.

His smile fell.

Behind the door was a desert. The floor was all soft, silty sand. Some scraggly, thorny plants grew up and out. In the near distance, he saw tall cacti reaching up into the crisp blue sky.

Behind the door was a desert identical to this one. Had he made a mistake? Had he been tricked? Was he cursed?

A sob clawed its way out of his throat, leaving him feeling jagged and aching. He coiled up in the sand and cried, salting the earth and gasping for breath. Why had this happened? Was he banished to this strange hell because he didn't belong in Night Vale? Maybe living and loving there for two years was not enough. Maybe he was always going to be an outsider. Perhaps the town had purged itself of a disease.

He began to wonder if he deserved it.

Carlos wasn't sure how long he lay there sobbing, but when he finally opened his eyes and looked around the desert on the other side of the door was cast in purplish dusk. His desert was much brighter, thrown in the bleached light of noon. That was an interesting development. That was different and beautiful, and he scrambled to his feet and out the door. This desert was much cooler than the other, now that the sun was gone behind the flat blocks of the mesas.

There was nothing he could do but walk forward and see where he'd end up, if anywhere.

Carlos walked for three hours before he saw headlights flaring and fading in the distance. He hadn't seen lights in months.

He threw all restraint away and ran as fast as he could toward the source of the headlights, seeking a thin river of road in this broad expanse of nothing. It took twenty minutes before he practically stumbled onto the highway. He wasn't sure what road it was, but there would be a sign eventually. He would just walk on and wait for a car, wait for something.

Night had fallen properly, and all that lit the desert was a thin sliver of the moon and a ribbon of stars arcing across the sky. Smiling, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"Carlos!" Cecil whispered. His voice had a slightly creased quality, as though Carlos had just woken him up. Perhaps he had.

"Hi, Cecil," Carlos said. "I think I have good news."

He explained the door and the new desert, the road he was currently shuffling down. He expected to see lights against the horizon eventually. Or, well, he _hoped_ to see lights soon. He hoped to see _something_.

"Give me a minute and I can get my car and go find you," Cecil finally exclaimed. The bed groaned across the line. Cecil had probably sat up. He was probably about to stand and search for shoes.

"No, no," Carlos said. "I woke you up, and I might not even be on Route 800. I'll wait for another car and work from there. I'll call you either when I get to Night Vale or when I figure out where I am, I promise."

There was a short, disappointed pause.

"I love you," Carlos said.

"I love you too."

He was tempted to keep Cecil on the line so that he might keep Carlos company as he walked. The desert was a lonely place, but tonight, there were stars to act as his companions. Tonight he was not alone. Tonight, he was on his way home.


End file.
